Ricochet Part IV
by dinkydow
Summary: Jack meets up with an old enemy and is so not a happy camper.


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Title: Ricochet Part IV

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Author: dinkydow

Email: 

Category: Now that I've seen the season opener, I'll have to classify this as Alternate Universe. Series; sequel to Ricochet Part III

Rating: R

Spoilers: Takes place in Season 8.

Warnings: A regular Jack whump-fest and some language. What can I say? Jack is so not a happy camper.

Summary: Jack spends some time with an old enemy.

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own any of them. Couldn't afford to if I did and don't have a mountain to hide them in. Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions do. I wrote this for entertainment and won't be making any money for it, so please don't sue. (Heavy sigh).

Author's Notes: Blame this one on Whiney; she insisted that someone should use her whip in a story, so here it is, Whiney's infamous whip fic. Many thanks to Alice and Jerry for their suggestions and for being my betas for this thing. Thanks too for all the wonderful encouragement from the Jackfic gang. You know who you are. : D I know that I should be posting these as chapters, but for some reason, it doesn't work when I try to do it. So please bear with me. Yes, I love to hear feedback!

Bright incandescent light flowed around and through him, providing a healing comfort that he hadn't experienced in far too long. However, this light differed from the artificial sterility of the sarcophagus in that it promised eternal comfort and peace instead of a false assurance of immortality. He recognized and reached for the familiar presence that he'd felt when the light first engulfed him.

"Charlie?" he asked again. He was answered almost immediately with a wave of love that overwhelmed him with its intensity.

"Dad!" Once again, he was swept away by the strength of the emotional onslaught.

"Where am I, Charlie?" he asked.

"You died, Dad. Remember?" the child asked anxiously.

"Dead? Oh, yeah…Ba'al."

"Dad?"

"Yes, son?"

"There's someone here who wants to talk to you."

"Who wants to talk to me, Charlie?"

"Janet's here, Dad. She says it's important."

"Doc? You there? I can't see anything, Doc."

Panic. Fear of that which is uncontrollable and unknown.

"Calm down, Jack. Yes, I'm here. But I don't have much time."

"So, whatcha want?"

"You've got to hang on for just a little longer, Jack."

"Don't think I can do that, Doc."

"And why the hell not? Don't tell me that you're going to go all wimpy on me."

Silence. Weary resignation.

"Jack? You've got to listen to me, Jack."

"Why should I? I'm a wimp, a gutless wonder. You said it yourself. Remember?"

"There is an end to it. You've just got to hang on a little longer."

"Yeah, right. You know as well as I do that this crap is never going to end, Doc. I'm tired, Janet. Tired and sick to death of all the dying and pain. I really don't know how much longer I can keep this up. Did I mention the pain, Doc?"

"You can't give up now. Dixon is depending on you."

Silence. Bitter reproach.

"Jack?"

"You just couldn't resist, could you, Doc? Just had to throw Dixon in my face. I know your tactics. Sure, appeal to his sense of responsibility. That's how to get to Jack. Well, fine, you win. So, now what?"

"I'm sorry, Jack. But, I wasn't just saying empty words when I told you that there was an end in sight."

"Huh? Like the light at the end of the tunnel? Or is that light really from the other oncoming train? You know, the one that's gonna cream my ass."

"No, Jack. I mean that they know where you are now. Thor's on his way with some help."

"My buddy Thor's coming?"

"Yes, Jack. I have to go now. Just remember that you have to hold on…just a little bit longer."

The light faded, leaving him feeling empty and alone once more.

Jack O'Neill opened his eyes to find himself lying in the sarcophagus. Again. His mind vaguely remembered the night of the killer bugs, the beam from the ribbon device boring a hole straight through his skull, and having some sort of weird conversation with Dixon inside his head. He took note that he was dressed only in his boxers and ragged t-shirt. 'They probably let the bugs keep my pants,' he thought. 'Don't blame 'em. Those are nasty little suckers.'

"Crap," he muttered to himself. The ceiling above his head abruptly split, opening up to reveal the dark outline of someone peering down at him. Then, arms reached into the box, and grabbed his shoulders, roughly dragging him from his unnatural slumber. Not a word was said to him as he struggled to get his bearings and focus on his surroundings.

This time around, he felt different. For one thing, his throat still felt raw and swollen and the skin on his forehead still burned from the after-effects of the ribbon device. Confusion reigned in his befuddled mind. So much so, that he didn't even bother trying to insult his uncommunicative guards as he usually did. Besides, the tasks of breathing and trying to get his wits about him had a much higher priority on his list of things to do. Raising his head with difficulty, he saw that his escort had dragged him out into the hallway.

"Gee, Jack. Three guesses as to where they're taking you, and the first two don't count," he grumbled as they bustled him quickly down the hallways. His feet and legs didn't seem to be in the mood to cooperate, so they ended up getting scraped up as the guards hauled him over the rough stone floors.

It wasn't long before they finally arrived at their destination and hauled him into Corn Ba'al's version of Playland. Wasting no time, they dragged him over to stand once again on the drain with the manacles dangling over his head. They loomed menacingly over him, heavy with the promise of more pain and suffering.

This time however, he didn't struggle against his guards and slumped between them as they fastened the iron cuffs around his wrists. It takes energy to fight, and, for once, he just didn't have it to spare. Once done, the chain was drawn up, hoisting the prisoner into the air, until his feet no longer touched the floor. The finishing touch was the addition of shackles around his ankles, leaving him anchored by a bolt attached to the floor.

Only then did his quiescent guards step away from him, leaving him dangling and swaying in the air with his head resting on his chest. Initially, the only sound was his breaths rasping in and out of his raw, swollen throat. He really wasn't surprised when the chamber echoed with the sound of derisive laughter. With difficulty, Jack raised his head to stare blankly at the face leering into his. He jerked back convulsively when the Goa'uld reached out a gloved hand to caress his face, but found he was unable to escape his touch.

Summoning up what little energy he could find, he spit into his captor's face and smirked when he caught the look of rage on his captor's face. Wiping the spit off his cheek, Ba'al snarled at his prisoner.

"You will pay for your insolence, my pet," the Goa'uld growled dangerously. Then he wrapped his long fingers around Jack's jaw, and squeezed, enjoying the wince of pain from the man dangling helplessly in front of him.

"It is time to begin your lessons once again, Tau'ri. You are tiring and growing weak, my impetuous student. Soon you will see the error of your thinking and bow before your god," Ba'al assured him with a laugh as he released his grip on O'Neill's jaw.

Jack responded by shaking his head and glaring at the Snakehead standing in front of him. He wanted desperately to hurl insults at his tormentor, but he still couldn't seem to get enough air into his lungs. So he thought them instead. 'Go to hell you no-good, overdressed, slimy, scum-sucking, snaky-assed god-wannabe.' Not quite as satisfying as actually speaking the words out loud, but it would do in a pinch. 'Dixon must be screaming by now. The black leather get-up his High Royal Snakiness was wearing was a definite no-go. It was probably all the rage in leisurewear for the best-over-dressed Snake though,' he mused. 'Our next model is Dirt Ba'al. My, doesn't he look chic all dressed up for a day of fun in the dungeon?'

"I see that you are having trouble breathing. Good. It was by my order that you spent only enough time in the sarcophagus to ensure partial healing, O'Neill. In this way, you will be a much more malleable student for your instruction in humiliation and suffering. To further enhance your learning experience, I have prepared a special instrument for you," he continued as he turned and walked sedately toward his throne.

When he reached it, he sat regally upon it and picked up the object resting on one of its wide arms. His smile widened as he drew the long black whip through his gloved fingers.

"This whip has been prepared with you in mind, O'Neill. The tips of each leather cord were fashioned with small metallic claws made of trinium. They were designed to inflict maximum damage when applied to the skin of the Tau'ri. Do you not appreciate the time and effort I have taken for your proper education?"

"Eat…my…shorts," gasped Jack.

Ba'al responded to his taunt by chuckling once again. Then, he rose from his seat with the lithe movements of a black panther stalking its prey. His steps brought him to stand once again in front of his dangling victim. He raised the handle of the whip, using it to gently stroke the side of Jack's face.

"To further your learning, the cords of this whip were treated with a concentrate made from Tal'vic acid."

Jack's head jerked away at the mention of that particular potion and he damned himself mentally when he saw the look of triumph is Ba'al's eyes and the soul-eating smile that split his face.

"Ah, I see that you too have fond memories of this substance, my pet. This concentrate was specially prepared so that it will only activate when coming in contact with the blood of its victim. The combination of the pain from the clawed tips and the acid should make this teaching session quite…instructive and…entertaining. Do you not agree, Tau'ri?"

Ya gonna…talk me…to death, Skippy?" Jack rasped hoarsely.

Ba'al just laughed again, and lowered the whip, allowing its length to slip easily through the leather gloves on his hand. Then he moved around Jack until he was standing behind him. Experimentally, he slashed the leather cord through the air, enjoying the snapping sound it made. When he saw Jack flinch, he chuckled once again, low in his throat.

"Your body is already mine to do with as I please. Soon, my pet, I will own your soul as well." He punctuated his words with another crack of the whip. Its length passed within inches of Jack's arms, so close he could feel the air displaced by its rapid passage. Once again, he couldn't stop himself from flinching. Ba'al laughed once again.

The next stroke landed in the middle of Jack's back, slicing easily through his t-shirt and leaving a thin line of blood that soaked into the black fabric. The next stroke fell almost immediately after, curling around his shoulders and driving a grunt from his body. Jack bit down on his lower lip to keep any other sound from escaping his mouth.

With each additional stroke, he bit down harder, until he could taste the coppery flavor from his own blood in his mouth. The long stripes in his skin were beginning to burn from the effects of the acid, an all too familiar sensation he remembered from his previous experiences.

By now Jack had no doubt that he was in hell. The Tal'vic acid was entering his bloodstream through the open gashes on his back and shoulders. His entire body felt like it was slowly being eaten from within. Probably because it was.

By the time the twentieth lash fell, he was no longer able to hold back the groan that escaped his lips. He could feel beads of his own blood intermingling with salty sweat trickling down his legs and dripping off the bottoms of his feet and toes. His t-shirt was in tatters and his boxers were on the verge of ending up around his ankles. For now, they were plastered to his skin with sweat and clung crookedly to his frame.

Jack's military training recognized that he should be upset about the prospect of being exposed before his enemy, but the greater part of him just didn't give a damn anymore. That part of him wished only for the rapid onset of unconsciousness so that he might have respite from the continuing agony and burning from his wounds. As if sensing his wish, Ba'al paused in his methodical whipping long enough to give an order to his Jaffa.

"Jaffa, prepare the stimulant for the Tau'ri. He must remain fully aware in order for his lessons to continue." Jack was unable to hold back his whimper of pain at this news.

"At once, my Lord," assured his First Prime as he took a tightly sealed flask off its hook on the wall. He carried it carefully in his hands towards his god and stood beside him, awaiting further orders.

In the meantime, Jack's chin was lolling on his chest, and his eyes were squeezed shut. Blood from his bitten lip trickled down his chin to land on his black t-shirt where it mixed with his sweat. It was becoming increasingly more difficult for him to breathe, and he no longer remembered why it was so important for him to remain silent. Ba'al was winning…and there didn't seem to be anything he could do to stop it.

The whip whistled through the air once more, wrapping its length around his waist as the clawed tips dug into the skin of his abdomen. Against his will, he groaned loudly and welcomed the encroaching darkness. The whip snapped again and his body jerked as it found its mark on his upper shoulders, slicing through the tattered remains of his shirt and ripping through his skin to lay his shoulder blade bare.

The only sounds now were the steady metronome-like cadences of the cracking whip and the grunts from the its wielder, followed by the sound of the leather cords tearing tender flesh punctuated by the guttural groans from the victim hanging from the chain in the ceiling. The symphony of horror seemed to go on forever as the orchestral leader of the ghoulish composition smirked coldly, his face split with a parody of Colonel Dixon's warm smile. Only when the groans ceased did he alter the rhythm of his strokes. Passing the whip to his other hand, he glanced disdainfully to his waiting First Prime.

"Jaffa, kree! The Tau'ri has lost consciousness," he said as he held out his hand for the bottle. His First Prime handed over the bottle without a word, and took the whip that was offered to him.

Ba'al walked slowly around his victim, breathing in the aroma of blood, sweat, and fear that emanated from the man dangling in front of him. Once he stood in front of Jack O'Neill, he took the time to study his face, noting the blood trickling down his chin and the sound of air whistling in and out of his victim's heaving lungs. When he looked more closely, he was able to discern the tracks of tears running down Jack's face, mingling with the sweat and blood already present.

He chuckled once again, removed the lid, and held the bottle to the slack lips of his captive. Grasping Jack's chin cruelly in one hand, he poured several drops into his mouth. Then, he stepped back and waited for the stimulant to take effect.

When Jack began coughing and sputtering a spray of bloody spittle, he smiled once again, and turned to walk up the steps to sit upon his throne. His Jaffa followed him obediently, bowed before him, and then took up his station beside the dais. Ba'al continued to wait, observing his student for signs of returning consciousness. When Jack's eyes fluttered open, he rubbed his goatee and lounged indolently in his chair.

"You are learning your lessons well, my pet. Beg me to release you, and I will end your suffering," he said reasonably.

"No," Jack whispered hoarsely.

"Why do you resist the inevitable? Although you fought tenaciously against my will, you are now ready to acknowledge me as your god. There is no shame in accepting this truth. I tell you again, beg me to release you, and I will end your suffering," Ba'al continued in a reasonable tone. When Jack didn't answer, he resumed his lecture to his recalcitrant pupil.

"Your body is weak from the Tal'vic acid. Once it enters the bloodstream, it burns through the veins, carrying its poison to the heart and brain. You will die a slow agonizing death, Tau'ri. If you beg me for release, I will give it to you. Your words can end this."

The sound of shouting in the corridors interrupted the Goa'uld's discourse. Frowning his displeasure, he turned to his First Prime.

"Jaffa, quell this disturbing noise at once!" The Jaffa bowed his head to his god.

"At once, my Lord Ba'al," he answered as he pivoted and moved quickly toward the entrance of the chamber. He was met there by one of his Jaffa, who was panting and had bullet holes in his armor.

"The Tau'ri approach from the surface and are attacking my Lord," he gasped as he fell into the First Prime's arms. Lowering him to the floor, the First Prime turned once again to Ba'al who had left his throne and was now standing by Jack's dangling body.

"Repel the invaders, Jaffa. Kree!" demanded the Goa'uld imperiously.

The First Prime responded by grabbing a staff weapon and charging out the door. The sound of shouting and weapon's fire was drawing closer to his chamber. Ba'al growled unpleasantly and returned to stand before his dangling captive. Running his hand over Jack's panting face, his fingers followed the line of his jaw and then dipped down to his throat. When he felt the faint and irregular pulse beneath his fingertips, he smiled and patted Jack's cheek affectionately.

"I regret that I must leave you now, my pet. But never fear, I shall return for you," he purred. A shout at the entrance to his chamber jerked his attention from Jack. With rage, he noted that several well-armed Tau'ri had entered the chamber and were running towards him. He spun in place and headed out of the room at a run.

"Stop him!" shouted Major Carter as she sprinted toward the startled Goa'uld. Taking aim, she fired her P-90 at the fleeing figure. When his steps faltered, she increased her pace, in the hopes of catching him before he could make it to the door at the other end of the room. By this time, Teal'c was running past her, and they both sprinted after the escaping Goa'uld.

"Daniel, check on the General," she ordered the man, who until now, had been at her side. Pausing long enough to look around, she saw that he was standing frozen in place at the doorway, staring in horror at the wreck hanging limply from the chain in the ceiling.

Although the bullet in his leg was slowing him down, the distraction was all that Ba'al needed to make it to the door. In the meanwhile, Teal'c continued to stalk his prey that had disappeared through the door across the room. Glancing hurriedly behind him, he instructed the female soldier behind him.

"Attend to O'Neill's needs, Major Carter. Ba'al is mine," the Jaffa warrior vowed menacingly. Then he turned away and sprinted through the doorway after his quarry.

Looking around the darkened room wildly, the Goa'uld spotted a slave cowering in the corner. He limped rapidly toward him and grabbed him, lifting him up off the floor. All the while ignoring the whimpering sound issuing from the slave's throat. A noise behind him caused him to loosen this grip on the struggling man and he whirled to face his opponent. Seeing the Jaffa shol'va in front of him, he hesitated momentarily, until he saw the raised zat in his hand. His eyes widened as he saw the enraged Jaffa's fingers squeeze the trigger. Time seemed to stand still as the electric voltage from the zat streamed through the air to engulf the host's body in electric agony. He collapsed to the ground, taking with him the unfortunate slave. They landed on the floor, entwined with each other in a mocking embrace.

Slowly, the slave disentangled himself from the unresisting body on top of him. Seeing no sign of the shol'va Jaffa, he crawled painfully out another exit to better examine his injuries. When his eyes flashed white, the slave knew he was doomed and cowered into a dark hole in order to avoid the wrath of his god. The sound of Ba'al's contemptuous laughter followed his retreating consciousness and ensured absolute obedience.

Back in Ba'al's throne room, Daniel and Carter were gently lowering Jack's body to the floor. Both of them looked up when they heard Teal'c reenter the room. Daniel had gotten a blanket out of his pack and wrapped it around the unconscious man.

"Major Carter, Colonel Dixon has been rendered unconscious and is in need of medical attention. I refrained from destroying him according to your wishes," he informed them.

Much as he'd fought against it, Jack had to admit Ba'al had finally won. Jack knew he was dying…again and it hurt...a lot. With every breath he took, his mouth filled with blood that dribbled out past his lips in a scarlet cascade of bubbles. He knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he couldn't last another round against that Snake. That the next time those goons hauled him out of the sarcophagus, he'd give Ba'al what he wanted. He'd beg him to end it.

When he felt hands upon his body once again, he struggled weakly to escape their touch. His eyes fluttered open and then widened as he saw blurry faces bending over him, touching his body. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced the words out past the blood in his mouth and throat.

"End it…please," he mumbled softly. His words ended in a weak cough, and fresh blood trickled from his mouth and nose. There, he'd said it. He could die now…for the last time. He fled to the darkness that had hovered just out of his reach. For in it, he could hide himself and his shame.

"Just lie still, Jack. We've got you," assured Daniel as he fumbled to feel the pulse at his friend's throat. When he felt the faint irregular thumps beneath his fingertips and heard the bubbling sound of his breathing, his eyes sought Carter's in fear.

"We've got to get him out of here, or we'll lose him, Sam," he stated urgently. Carter responded by whirling to Teal'c.

"Teal'c. The General needs to get out of here now! Can you carry him?"

"Of course, Major Carter," the Jaffa replied as he bent down to scoop Jack into his arms. Rising smoothly, he turned to sprint out of the room with his precious cargo in his arms, toward the tunnel that led to the planet's surface.

In the meantime, Major Carter turned to Colonel Reynolds who had burst into the room with the rest of his team.

"Teal'c zatted Dixon and says he's in the other room, Sir."

"Very good, Carter. Why don't you and Daniel go with the General? We'll tend to Dixon. It looks like we've pretty much mopped up any of Ba'al's Jaffa already," he commented.

"Thank you, Sir," Carter replied as she cast him a grateful smile and then nodded to Daniel. "Shall we, Daniel? I believe we have a transporter to catch."

"Let's go see Jack, Sam. Knowing him, Ernie's probably got him safe and sound in a med pod by now. He'll be up and complaining before you know it."

Ernie looked worriedly at his friend, Jack O'Neill, and checked the readings from the monitors once again. For some reason, his heartbeat and blood pressure were still extremely erratic. As a matter of fact, his condition had worsened since his arrival on board 'The O'Neill II' and his heart appeared to be giving out. Alarms started wailing a siren's song of approaching death. Their discordant clamor was silenced by long gray fingers that manipulated the pads on the medical console like a concert pianist plays a Steinway.

"Why will you not behave yourself, Jack O'Neill?" He sighed and touched another control pad on the med pod console. "Perhaps you have a foreign substance in your body," he muttered to himself. "In the meantime, I believe it is time to save your sorry ass."

Saying this, he busied himself with attaching an oxygen feed to his patient's nostrils and inserted the necessary tubes into the device attached to his chest in order to ensure all other needs were taken care of. Turning once again to the monitors, he studied the readouts in the hopes that they would give him the answers he needed to save his friend's life. An abnormality in Jack's blood chemistry was all the excuse he needed to examine the sample more closely. What he saw there made him halt all other preparations.

"Tal'vic Acid! And venom from an insect too? Oh my dear buddy, just hang in there a little bit longer. I will have the antidote flowing through your veins in a jiffy," he promised solemnly. "You would not dare to turn belly-up on me now, Jack O'Neill." His long twig-like fingers flew over the control board in a dance of healing, in sharp contrast to Ba'al's previous symphony of death.

An hour later, Ernie and his command chair materialized in the main meeting room on board 'The O'Neill II'. Already present and sitting around a long rectangular table were Thor, Colonel Reynolds, Major Carter, Teal'c and Daniel Jackson. After the humans at the table recovered from his rather abrupt appearance, he was besieged by questions. Thor solved Ernie's dilemma by raising one hand.

"I believe it would be most beneficial for us to reserve our questions for after Eir has given his report," commented Thor dryly. The lowered eyes and sheepish glances sent his way were all the answer he needed.

"Eir. Do you have any further news on the condition of our Tau'ri friends, O'Neill and Dixon?"

"Ya think?" replied Ernie. When he saw the look of irritation on Thor's face, he cleared his throat nervously before speaking.

"Both Dave Dixon and Jack O'Neill are resting comfortably in their medical pods in our Infirmary. Dixon seems to be recovering from his ordeal as well as can be expected. No presence of a Goa'uld was found in his body, therefore, it must be assumed that Ba'al escaped from us once again." Several gasps of dismay greeted these words.

"What about Jack, Ernie? He was in pretty bad shape when we got him out of that cave," stated Daniel in a worried voice.

"Jack O'Neill did indeed look like something the cat dragged in, Daniel Jackson," Ernie answered solemnly. "His condition remains extremely critical and I was afraid he would kick the bucket for a while. However, his condition has stabilized for now."

"Just what did that Goa'uld do to him, Ernie?" asked Major Carter.

"According to the test results, he was repeatedly tortured, killed, and revived in a sarcophagus, Major Carter. I also found traces of insect venom and Tal'vic acid in his tissues and bloodstream. Because of the severity of the wounds on his back, he is presently sedated and suspended on a cushion of air to promote better healing. He should not regain consciousness for some time."

"When can we see him?" asked Major Carter anxiously.

"O'Neill cannot receive visitors as he is not out of the woods yet, Major Carter. The toxins in his body severely compromised his respiratory and circulatory systems. Colonel Dixon is likewise sedated and recovering from his leg wound. However, he will soon be conscious once again as his injuries were not quite so severe. When he is ready to chat with his pals, you will be the first to know."

"Has O'Neill regained consciousness while in your care, Eir?" inquired Thor solemnly.

"No, Thor, he has not. And that concerns me. Teal'c, did you not say that Jack O'Neill spoke when he was first rescued?"

"Indeed. However, as I was not present when this occurred, I was not witness to this event."

"He opened his eyes for a brief moment right after we laid him on the floor, Ernie. Then he mumbled something, but I couldn't understand it. To tell you the truth, he was pretty out of it, and I'm not sure if he even recognized us. Now that I think about it, he revived only after we started handling him, and seemed to be more upset that someone was touching him than anything else," explained Daniel.

"I figured as much, and that would fit right in with…" A warning light that suddenly started flashing on the arm of his chair interrupted Ernie's reply. The little Asgard took one look at it, and then with no further explanation, disappeared in a flash of light, leaving behind a room of very worried friends.

When the light came for him, Jack had been floating alone in an empty soul-eating darkness for what seemed like forever. Seeing its approach, he embraced it willingly, knowing instinctively that he'd find the solace and respite that he so desperately craved. No one could find him there, and he could hide from the knowledge that Ba'al had finally won. He'd broken him, and in the end, he'd begged him to end it, just like the Goa'uld had predicted he would. So much for his bad-ass reputation.

He sensed the familiar presence before it made itself known to him. Given his present mood of mortification and embarrassment, he made no move to acknowledge it, preferring instead to avoid contact with anyone and anything. After all, he had failed, and was unworthy of attention from anyone. He figured the last thing he wanted, or needed at this point, was someone's pity.

"Jack," she whispered insistently. He recognized her voice immediately, and desperately tried fleeing her presence. When he was unable to do so, he mentally added this futile escape attempt to his long list of failures.

"Jeez, Jack. Ya can't even outrun a corpse," he complained.

"It's me, Jack. Janet Fraiser," the voice continued. "I won't go away, Jack. So you might as well answer me."

"Dammit, get the hell away from me, Doc. Can't you take a hint?" Jack demanded angrily.

"I know what happened."

"So, why are you here then? Feel like gloating, do ya?"

"You should know me better than that. The reason I'm here is to be your guide."

"My guide?"

"Yes, Jack. Once again, you stand at a crossroads. You can choose to live…or to die. I'm here to help you make that choice."

Abruptly, he felt like he was being turned inside out and with an almost audible snap, he was wrenched out of the light and found himself floating in the air. Beside him was the transparent form he recognized as Dr. Janet Fraiser, complete with Class B uniform, high heels, and lab coat with a penlight tucked in the pocket. Looking around to get his bearings, he realized he was in the Infirmary of 'The O'Neill II'. Below him were two medical pods with translucent lids. One had the lid retracted while the other was totally enclosed, although he could see the outline of a human lying within it.

The form lying in the open one was…him. As in Jack O'Neill. He was totally naked and looked white as a ghost. In addition, he had various tubes and monitors installed into his anatomy. Standing beside him was his Asgard friend, Ernie. He seemed upset about something and was manipulating controls on the console attached to the med pod.

"What the hell is going on here, Doc?"

"You're dying, Jack. And Ernie is doing his utmost to prevent it," answered Fraiser.

"I'm not worth his time and trouble, Doc. Hasn't he figured that out by now?" asked Jack irritably.

"I guess he hasn't. He cares an awful lot about you, Jack."

"Well, he shouldn't," he retorted.

"A lot of people care about you. Why do you suppose that is?"

"A case of mass insanity?"

"I don't think so."

"Why can't you all just leave me the hell alone!"

"Why should we?"

"You know why, Doc. You were there. You saw what happened. What I did."

"What happened, Jack? I want you to tell me."

"No…I can't," he whispered drawing in upon himself.

"Yes, you can, Jack. Tell me what happened."

"He broke me, Doc! I did exactly what he wanted me to do and begged him to end it. There…are you satisfied?"

"You didn't beg him, Jack."

"Yes, I did. I distinctly remember begging him to end it for me."

"No, you didn't."

"Did."

"No, you did not, Jack. You may have said those words, but Ba'al never heard them. He wasn't even around by then because he'd turned chicken and run off by that time. Teal'c was hot on his trail too."

"What?"

"It wasn't Ba'al that you said those words to, Jack. Think back and remember. You were hanging there, and Ba'al was talking to you. Right?"

"Yes…"

"What do you remember after that?"

"Well, it's kind of hard to piece together, Doc. I mean, I was pretty out of it by then, what with the whip thing and the acid, and not being able to breathe. I do remember seeing blurry faces bending over me. I think that's when I begged him to end it," Jack said after some thought.

"Right, Jack. Those blurry faces belonged to Daniel and Sam. They'd just got you out of those damned manacles and wrapped you up in a blanket. Right after that, Teal'c scooped you up in his arms and ran all the way back up to the planet's surface so Thor could beam you up to his ship. Ernie's been working on saving your life ever since."

"OK, but that doesn't change the fact that Ba'al broke me, Doc. How can I live with the shame of that?"

"I can't answer that, Jack. By the way, do you know who is in the other medical pod?"

"Dixon?"

"You're right, that's who it is. They managed to bring him back too. He's got a rough road ahead of him because he has to come to terms with what he did to you while he was Ba'al's host," commented Janet Fraiser.

"It's not his fault, Doc. I already told him that. He couldn't stop Ba'al from doing the things he did anymore than I could when I was his host. I've been there, bought the t-shirt, and a snake ran off with it, so I know the deal."

"Did he believe you when you told him that, Jack?"

"Well, no, but he will with time He's a smart guy, he'll figure it out."

Their attention was drawn to sounds emanating from the enclosed medical pod. The low mutterings gradually changed to screams, causing Ernie to leave the pod containing Jack's body and bounce quickly toward the other one. With deft fingers, he pushed buttons until the lid retracted, revealing a very awake and upset Colonel Dave Dixon. He screamed once again as Ernie touched his shoulder, causing the Asgard to bounce backwards.

"Calm down, Colonel Dixon. You just scared the shit out of me," remonstrated Ernie.

"Huh? Who are you and where the hell am I?" asked Dixon in a bewildered tone.

"I am Ernie and you are in my Infirmary on board 'The O'Neill II'. You were brought here from the planet's surface and no longer have a snake inside your head," Ernie informed him smugly.

"General O'Neill?"

"He was brought here also and is in the other medical pod. I was in the process of saving his sorry ass when you started screaming. Please do not do that again, as it scared the beejeebers out of me."

"Sorry 'bout that. Had a nightmare, I guess. How's the General doing?"

"As I am sure you are aware, his injuries were quite severe. We may yet lose him."

"Not General O'Neill. He won't quit without a fight. Besides, I don't think I could live with myself if he didn't make it. After all, it was me that kept torturing him. I just kept killing him…over and over again, Ernie No matter how hard I tried put a stop to it, I couldn't," Dixon admitted averting his eyes from the observant Doctor.

"I am sure that Jack O'Neill does not hold you responsible for the actions of Ba'al," commented Ernie helpfully.

"Yeah, that's what he told me. But, if he dies…well, I don't know if I could deal with that. It would be as if I'd put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger myself."

"You must not concern yourself with such matters at present, Colonel Dixon. Your own recovery from your ordeal is far from complete."

"Can I at least see him?"

"No, you may not, and if I catch you trying to sneak out of this bed, I will have to resort to restraining your ass. Do I make myself clear, Colonel Dixon?"

"You sure don't talk like an Asgard, Ernie," muttered Dixon.

"Why, thank you. I have been learning human methods of communication from Jack O'Neill. Am I using the terms in the correct manner?"

"Yes, you are, Ernie. You think an awful lot of the General, don't you?"

"Yes, I do. I would be truly at a loss if he didn't' make it this time as I have come to value his friendship," stated Ernie soberly. "Now enough chitchat, you must rest, Colonel Dixon."

"Sure thing, Doc. I'm sure the General will be all right. He's always pulled through before," added Dixon as he settled back down and closed his eyes. Ernie pushed more buttons on the console, but left the lid retracted this time.

"I hope you are right, Colonel Dixon. I really do." Then the little Asgard bounced back over to stand next to Jack's body. Reaching out, he tenderly pushed some hair back off the human's forehead.

"You seem to have quite a fan club, Jack," commented Dr. Fraiser from her vantage point near the ceiling.

"Yeah, well, what do they know?" Jack replied bitterly. "Not me, that's for damned sure."

"They seem to think that they do. You've got to remember, Dixon was there through all that crap, just like you were, so he knows exactly what you went through. As for Ernie, he's been there for you ever since the first time you escaped from Ba'al. Hasn't he?"

"Yeah, that was the first time we met. Thor had beamed me back from Ba'al's planet and Ernie fixed me up. That was when I gave him his name, you know. I had no idea that he'd take me so seriously. Ya gotta love the little guy, though. And his antics have got to be driving the Asgard High Council nuts by now," Jack added with a chuckle.

"Yes, the little guy does tend to grow on you," agreed Janet.

"By the way, Doc. Whatever happened to Ba'al? If he's not in Dixon anymore, then where is he?"

"He got away, Jack. Teal'c thinks he left Dixon and infested a slave that was in the room with him after he was zatted. Sorry about that, Jack. I know that's not news you wanted to hear."

"So, Ba'al never heard me?"

"No, he didn't, Jack. As far as he's concerned, you are the one man that he could never break." Jack was silent for several moments. Clearly, he was mulling over the recent events and their implications…for him and Dixon too.

"Well, we wouldn't want him to be wrong about that, now. Would we?" Jack asked with a grin.

"So, I take it that you've made your choice?"

"Yeah, Doc. I choose life…again. That may make me a stupid flyboy and a glutton for punishment, but there's just too much left for me to do yet. For one thing, I've still got to kick Dirt Ba'al's scum-sucking ass."

"No, Jack. That's does not make you a stupid flyboy. It makes you a royal pain in the ass and a very brave man, one whom I've always looked up to," added Janet with a smile.

"Aw, for crying out loud, Doc cut the crap. It's getting deep in here and you know I didn't bring my hip waders with me," Jack whined good-naturedly. "So what now? How do I get back to where I belong?"

"I'll help you out, Jack. Just close your eyes," she instructed with a gentle smile.

"OK, but, before you go…I'd just like to tell you thanks, Doc. I mean it."

"Will you close your eyes already or do I have to use my penlight on you?"

"Closing, Doc. Closing them right now!" yelped Jack as he squeezed them shut.

He felt himself dropping at a dizzying rate, and then, suddenly, he knew he was back inside his body. And it hurt. From somewhere above him, he could hear the sound of beeping and feel Ernie stroking his forehead tenderly.

With a great effort, he managed to pry his eyelids apart, only to see the up-close version of Ernie the Asgard, bug-eyes and all. Not a pretty sight. When Ernie realized his eyes were open, he jumped back in surprise.

"Jack O'Neill! What in tarnation are you doing awake? I gave you enough sedative to knock out an elephant."

"Hi, Ernie," Jack murmured. "Thanks…buddy." Then his eyes slid shut again, and he slipped into a healing sleep with a smile upon his face. Thor heard Ernie's whoop of joy all the way to the Briefing Room. Luckily, the Asgard Doctor materialized in front of them almost immediately afterwards. Form his excited bounce; they all knew it was good news.

"Eir, I presume you have an explanation for your loud noises," stated Thor in a flat monotone.

"Ya think? Of course I do. Jack O'Neill is still alive and kicking. As a matter of fact, he opened his eyes a short time ago and spoke to me."

"What did he say, and when can we see him?" asked Daniel impatiently.

"He obviously recognized me and was able to speak my name. He is now resting comfortably and is on the road to recovery. Dave Dixon has been experiencing nightmares, but is now sleeping again. Both are doing as well as can be expected. However, because of the damage the acid did to his bones and muscles, Jack O'Neill shall require a longer period of time to heal."

"That is most unfortunate," commented Thor. When everyone in the room turned their eyes to him, he took a deep breath before continuing.

"When Eir first informed me of O'Neill's difficulties, I was already planning to contact him."

"Why is that, Thor?" asked Carter suspiciously. She was beginning to get a bad feeling about this, and it wasn't just because she'd been hanging around Jack…no…the General, for too long. Then again, maybe it was. O'Neill's gut instincts were usually pretty accurate.

"Once again the Replicators are breaching the barriers we set against them. We know of no one else who would be capable of defeating them. As you are aware, the efforts of the Asgard have not been successful in the past."

"Wait a minute. Sam., didn't SG-1 risk their lives over a year ago by taking the Prometheus to Halla?" asked Daniel. "I thought you'd made sure they couldn't escape from the time bubble."

"I don't understand it either, Daniel. According to my calculations, they shouldn't have had time to stop the countdown on that timer. There must be some other explanation."

"We do not understand how or why the Replicators have been able to negate the influence of the time bubble. Suffice to say, that they have done it. Several Replicator vessels have attempted to breach the blockade the Asgard have established around the perimeter of the bubble. Thus far, their efforts have been unsuccessful. However, I fear that they will eventually succeed in breaching our barrier and will once again be free to ravage our galaxy."

"Jack O'Neill will have trouble scratching his butt, let alone taking on the Replicators, Thor. His injuries are far too debilitating and will require an extended period in the medical pod," Ernie informed Thor.

"Would a healing device help?" asked Carter.

"Yes siree bub, it would," answered Ernie. "But I do not have one handy and I doubt you were carrying one in your pocket."

"No, I don't have one with me, but I know where I could get one. I could use the one we keep at the base. If it would shorten the General's healing time, I'd be willing to give it a try."

"Thor, could you take us back to Earth so we could pick up a few supplies and let our superiors know what's been going on?" asked Colonel Reynolds. "I haven't spoken to them since we let them know we'd rescued our people. Whether or not we help out the Asgard will have to be up to them. Sorry, Thor, but that's how it works for us."

"No apology is necessary, Colonel Reynolds. I too have superiors that I must obey and report to. Our journey to your home planet will begin immediately." Thor moved some shells around on the arm of his command chair.

"In the meantime, can we visit General O'Neill and Colonel Dixon?" asked Carter.

"Only if you promise to be quiet as a mouse and not disturb their rest. If you do not obey my orders, I will throw you out," answered Ernie. When he saw that they were aware of his restrictions, he relented and started for the door.

"Follow me, but remember what I said," he warned.

"Indeed, we shall all endeavor to remain as silent as a small rodent," answered Teal'c as he joined them in their trek toward the Infirmary.

"I want to know why she betrayed me."

"She merely followed the orders given to her by her First, as our brethren obey ours. You must not concern yourself unnecessarily. It clutters your mind and adds to the disorder and chaos already present in your neural pathways. Are you not aware that this is an inherent flaw in your construction? The trap has been set. They will be summoned and you shall have your answers."

"But, why?"

"Patience, my son. You must calm yourself and merge with our brethren. What I have spoken will come to pass. Then your questions shall be answered."

The End To Be Continued in Part V


End file.
